


Radioactive

by GinnyBadWolf



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Ending to End of Time, Drabble, F/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyBadWolf/pseuds/GinnyBadWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the Tenth Doctor's last, pain-filled moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Radioactive

Alternate Ending to End of Time

The Doctor raked his hands through his hair, arched his back, yelled so loudly he couldn’t hear anymore. The radiation burned his skin without care, making his suit feel too small like he needed to breath.

This was the end. And it wasn’t fair.

He knew he was dying, and though he also knew he would live, he was still going to die.

He was going to die, die, die all alone, die, die, die even if he almost lived, die, die, die, he wanted to die....

The radiation stung his eyes and ran through every pore in his body, burned him and bruised him and made him ache and made him want to just end everything and made him miss every moment he wasn’t in so. much. pain. 

He curled into himself, clawed his hands into his hair, and thought of something golden, something big, bright, beautiful, something sweet, something perfect, something Rose. 

Rose and her perfect teeth and hair and eyes and laugh and smile and her perfect face, her perfect everything. He wanted so much to be with her that he let a tear trickle down his face and let it burn against his eyes and absorb radiation and sizzle against his skin as he he thought about his beautiful pink Rose, floating away on a red river, floating away on a yellow raft down a river, landing on a beach, landing on a beach and staying there forever.

He willed himself to move, to move his face and form the words in his mouth that were harder to say now than ever before, why had he chosen now out of all times to say so, why?

 

The words on his lips popped out in a croak, broken and aching and dying but still the beautiful words she had wanted to hear.

“I - I love you.” 

She had not heard them and she would never hear them, but it was enough. Her words from the beach that day echoed through his mind as he imagined her saying them back to him again, pretending he wasn’t going to die. 

The pain was almost too much to bear, but it wasn’t physical.


End file.
